


hey, lover

by kagako



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, lots of smooches just seriously them being rly cute and dorky together, they are being Tru dorks and i cry bc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 15:25:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1653440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagako/pseuds/kagako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, Asahi-san,” Noya sing-songs, and Asahi can hear a smile in the boys voice as he sets his hands to curl against his waist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hey, lover

**Author's Note:**

> just asahi and noya being really cute together. yes.

“Asahi-san,” he says—low and sing-song, and it comes straight from his heart, the way it’s filled with love and affection, laced with admiration as dark eyes search the taller’s face. His hands are sprawled on the taller’s chest, legs spread as Nishinoya’s straddling the other’s hips. Warmth spreads throughout his chest as he feels Asahi’s hands settle on his hips—and that warmth somehow increases as he watches the other open his eyes, a certain light in them as the corners of his mouth lift upward.

“Nishinoya.”

“Asahi-san,” Noya repeats, sing-song and low;  he watches as Asahi’s face turns a gentle shade of pink—the smaller male is sure that Asahi heard the love and admiration he weaved so delicately in his voice. Asahi tries to avert his eyes yet Noya’s hands slide upward to stop the movement, a smile curving his lips as the two of them lock eyes. The smaller male laughs meekly, fingertips grazing the contours of Asahi’s face as he says, “Don’t look away. That’s lame.”

Asahi rolls his eyes, a brow lifting slightly as he allows his fingers to pinch softly at the skin of Noya’s hips. “Sorry for being lame, Nishinoya.”

Noya throws his head back, face lit in laughter—and the sound resonates throughout the room, into Asahi’s ears and he swears up and down that it’s the most soothing, wonderful element that’s ever came into his ears. “You’re not lame, Asahi-san!” Noya tells the taller enthusiastically, and his eyes are unclouded, filled with adoration and devotion that it makes Asahi’s chest tighten just to look. “You’re very cool,” the smaller continues on, fingertips making small circles on the other male’s cheekbones. “Not as cool as me, though,” he adds, the corners of his mouth lifting as a laugh sounds from deep within his chest.

“Of course.”

“Close, though! No need to worry, Asahi-san.”

That makes Asahi snort, and he bites the inside of his cheeks to keep from smiling up at the other boy. He watches as Noya tilts his head, brows pulling together—and there’s not even a moment’s notice before Asahi’s getting his cheeks pinched. He cries out, a high yelp coming from between his lips, and he takes his hands away from Noya’s hips and up to his face, rubbing the spots the other male pinched. “Ni-Nishin—“ and he cuts off there, the sensation of Noya’s hands on his own interrupting his thinking process. “Nish—?”

“Be quiet, Asahi-san,” he sing-songs to him, grazing his lips against the taller’s cheeks. Nishinoya repeats the motion, nuzzling Asahi’s cheek as he does so. His hands are sprawled against the older’s chest once more, the lower half of his body (not surprisingly so) fitted perfectly against Asahi’s own. Noya hums softly, a placid noise from within his chest as he rubs his nose against the males underneath him.

Asahi lets out a small, tender sigh—and it hits Noya’s lips just as tenderly that his chest aches, and he groans out in response as he buries his face in the older’s chest, hands exploring their sides in search of Asahi’s own. Once he finds them, he laces their fingers together, allows his thumb to brush Asahi’s hand. He can feel Asahi move beneath him, and Noya can feel the movement as Asahi buries his nose in his hair, nuzzling repeatedly and softly. The smaller male imitates his partner, nuzzling a bit more roughly into the skin of Asahi’s collarbone before leaning back—allowing, slowly but surely, his lips to greet the skin there.

It makes Asahi start in surprise, eyes widening a moment before he feels what he knows is Noya’s lips. Gradually he relaxes, gently tugging their linked hands above their hands to coax Nishinoya into crawling upward to him, to greet him. When he feels the smaller male shake his head, a small huff of breath is given—and it makes Noya chuckle against his neck, makes him smile against the skin above Asahi’s racing pulse before he kisses at it—laps at it, even.

“Nishinoya.”

Once again the smaller male shakes his head, too occupied in pressing his lips against Asahi’s skin. Noya travels to his collarbone, his neck—jawline, where he takes extra care and exhales bits of laughter, the facial hair there tickling at his skin. He mouths at Asahi’s ear, navigating himself upward to leave small and loving kisses at the taller boy’s temples. Noya’s hands are squeezing Asahi’s own, thumbs rubbing softly and as sweetly as he can manage. The boy moves himself—Asahi following lead as they settle themselves more comfortably against each other in a sitting position. Noya takes a moment to adjust his legs on either side of the taller’s hips, lips never straying more than an inch away from Asahi’s skin before he’s seemingly colonized between Asahi’s legs. He then directs his lips to the older’s forehead, trailing small kisses until he’s at the other side of his face, although he is straining slightly by doing so.

“Nishinoya.”

A small shake of the head and Noya continues on, lips curved in a small smile as he kisses at the minor dark circles under the eyes that he loves to look at so much. He kisses at Asahi’s nose, boops it with his own while he’s at it.

Nishinoya can feel the male against him, how he’s seemingly vibrating with anticipation and need and pure want and affection that his own stomach twists in yearning. A breath of a laugh escapes his parted lips, and he mouths at the corners of his lover’s lips, can feel the way Asahi goes still (and he’s waiting, been waiting ever since Nishinoya sang out his voice into his ear, been waiting ever since his lips greeted his collarbone with such stomach-twisting desire, been waiting ever since that same afternoon where Noya brushed his lips against his own before practice, and—).

He’s grazing his lips against Asahi’s, can hear and feel the stuttered breaths that leave the male who’s facing him. Noya’s reciprocating the faltered breaths as he loosens the hold on Asahi’s hands bit by bit, traveling them upward to his elbows, the broad shoulders Nishinoya feels on a daily basis; and his fingers are like ghosts, small and hesitant as they brush against the older male’s jawline.

It’s then that Nishinoya realizes that Asahi’s imitating him. The smaller can feel Asahi’s fingertips just slightly above his hastening pulse, can feel his partner’s nose against his own; Noya can feel Asahi’s breath, warm and familiar against his lips that he gives out a small whimper of need, and he’s rewarded (perhaps) when Asahi’s breath hitches just slightly.

Asahi curls his fingers slightly, his hands now cupping Noya’s face in the tenderest way he’s ever held anything or anyone before. He’s always tender—sweet and loving with the male that’s against him. The older can feel Noya’s own fingers curling slightly, the sensation of his legs brushing against his own making his face bloom with color. Nishinoya’s scooting his body closer, trying his best to get them chest to chest before what he’s been waiting for occurs; wants to get as close as possible, perhaps enough so that he can feel Asahi’s heartbeat against his own, and maybe—just maybe—their heartbeats will cancel each other out, and then they’ll be beating as one—

“N-Nishinoya.”

Hearing his voice sound as such makes his heart skip a beat, makes his chest seem as if it’s enclosing upon itself. “A… Asahi-san,” Noya returns, feels the way the other’s eyelashes brush lightly at the tops of his cheeks. The corner of his mouth twitches and he brushes his thumbs against his partner’s cheeks, grazing them against the corners of his mouth. “Asahi- _san_ ,” he breathes, and it’s as if he lost all breath up until the moment he feels Asahi lean forward—

Their lips meet hurriedly at first, the tension and pure want having built up far too long. The two of them break apart for a moment to breathe, then their lips meet again, and Asahi takes the push to shyly coax open Nishinoya’s lips. He’s scooting himself closer, the want to not let breath go astray between them taking over his mindset. Noya can feel Asahi’s tongue, timid and soft and seemingly perfect against his own that he can’t help the color that rushes to cover his cheeks.

They break apart once more, breathless and panting in each other’s space. Little by little their hands slip away from each other’s faces, and they find each other—fingers lacing delicately, a reassuring squeeze. Nishinoya curls inward, allowing himself to rest his forehead in the curve between Asahi’s neck and shoulder; he feels his partner rest his chin atop his head, feels the other man’s thumbs against the backs of his hands. “Asahi-san.”

“Nishinoya,” Asahi hums back, turning his head slightly to nuzzle at the smaller males temple. It causes the younger male to burrow more closely into Asahi, and it makes him laugh—deep (warm and comforting, Nishinoya thinks) within his chest. Slowly, Noya let’s go of his partner’s hands, snaking them around Asahi’s waist only to sprawl his palms against his back; he becks at Asahi’s collarbone before pressing his ear against the broad chest in front of him.

“Hey, Asahi-san,” Noya sing-songs, and Asahi can hear a smile in the boys voice as he sets his hands to curl against his waist.

“What is it, Nishinoya?” he replies simply, closing his eyes as he presses kisses atop the younger’s head.

And it’s faint, what Noya tells him. He hadn’t sung it to him in that sing-song voice of his—it was a genuine, tender and oh-so achingly sweet thing. It was whispered, yet it was spoken so loudly Asahi had been afraid he hadn’t been the only living soul to hear it. The words caused his heart race to spike incredibly, his eyes to snap open to quickly it hurt, and his face took on such a color so quickly that he was dizzy—felt as if he would’ve stumbled over it he hadn’t already been seated down. His reaction had gotten an embarrassed chuckle out Noya, and Asahi had seen that his face, too, had been pursued by heat. Not even a moment passed before Asahi had bent his head, brushed his lips against Noya’s own—and perhaps, Asahi thinks, it was sweeter than the words his other half had said.

 _“I’m in love with_ you _, Asahi-san.”_


End file.
